The Games We Played
by Zias
Summary: Whilst Johanna is desperate to survive Finnick and Lavinia are dragged into rebel plots. The story of what happened in the years before the star crossed lovers.
1. Chapter 1: I'll Be Home Soon (Part 1)

**Chapter 1:**

**I'll Be Home Soon. (Part 1)**

* * *

_Panic is a dreadful and treacherous emotion. It feels like your heart breaking and your stomach dropping, all whilst your mind is trying and failing to sort the irrational from the rational fears. It's at this crucial point that your body betrays you. The simplest of actions, like a heartbeat, or even taking a shuddering breath, starts to physically hurt. You are engulfed by a new wave of anxiety as you realize that, yes, you are panicking. This is the moment where you lose all control of the problem at hand. It's such a futile and counterproductive response. Even more so when you're all alone._

_This was what was happening to Johanna. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the panic at bay and so it engulfed her. Inch by inch, liquid sand pulled her further down. It wrapped around her chest, squeezing tighter with every breath she took. The slightest movement resulted in sinking even faster. With no solid ground close enough to scramble for, Johanna had no choice but to accept that death was the only outcome for her current predicament. Over the last few days the thought of death had never left her. She had envisioned countless possibilities, some quite imaginative and flamboyant, most of them gruesome, but slowly drowning in sand had not been among them._

_It all happened so fast and unexpectedly that it almost seemed unfair. How foolish of her to have ever thought she had a chance in winning the Games, or to think she would see her family again. Her brothers, her father, were they watching now? Never had Johanna felt so hopeless and alone as when all of Panem was watching her die._

* * *

"Johanna... Mason!" Felix Crain's voice echoed harshly over the town square.

Johanna's world had suddenly taken on a surreal quality, as she saw Felix's pine-green lips mouth the words. His thick Capitol accent made her name sound alien. It wasn't her he called for, it wasn't her name on that slip of paper, it just _couldn't_ be. Numb, she stood in the District 7 square surrounded by thousands of children. Her eyes fixed on the escort and his fluorescent green suit. On the three gigantic screens behind him, Felix was portrayed larger than life, those deep green lips repeating the words - her name, again and again. But Johanna seemed unable to process what just happened. Somewhere in the background a woman cried out.

People nervously glanced at Johanna and the girls surrounding her stepped away, as if bad luck was contagious. _Stop it! Stop staring you idiots! _Johanna thought, _You'll draw their attention. They'll think it's… _just then the cameras found her and she saw herself replacing Felix Crain on one of the screens. …_me_. Her long brown hair, usually tied out of the way, flowed free with a pale blue ribbon keeping it in place. The borrowed dress she wore accentuated her undernourished figure. She barely recognized herself. She was sixteen years of age but the girl on the screen could easily have been mistaken for thirteen.

Another camera had found one of her elder brothers Herod and his wife Helena, who was crying uncontrollably in his arms. It must have been her scream that Johanna had heard before. Not until seeing them projected in front of her did Johanna accept the reality that she had been Reaped.

These kinds of things didn't happen to people you knew; not in her world, anyway. District 7 was huge, so the chances that you would be personally affected by a Reaping were tiny. Both her brothers had survived it without ever losing a friend or classmate and Johanna had never known any of the children Reaped before her.

"Chance of one in a million!" Herod used to say, when she was still too young to take part herself, "So don't you worry your pretty little head about me, Jo."

He and Alexander would head off for the Reaping, joking and laughing and come back in the same good humor. That fun-loving boy was not the man she saw on the screen. Herod's face looked pale and his eyes glazed over, as if all the life and joy had been sucked out of him. Johanna felt the sudden urge to run to him, but before she even had the chance a Peacekeeper grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the stage.

Inexplicably overjoyed that the tribute had been located in the crowd, Felix Crain called out to her, "Don't be shy, my dear! Come up here and show yourself to the world."

Herod disappeared from the screen, replaced by Johanna surrounded by Peacekeepers. As they dragged her forward she looked back in desperation, hoping to see either Herod or Alexander. But all she saw were hundreds of children relieved they weren't her. She received another rough nudge from a particularly burly Peacekeeper persuading her forcefully to continue walking. Stumbling forward a spark of anger rushed through her veins.

_Dare do that again, you freak of nature. _Johanna thought, as she flashed him a furious look. But she almost immediately changed her mind. Fighting would be unwise, they knew who she was and they knew her family. There was no other choice at this time but to comply. Clenching her teeth and with her eyes fixed to the ground she made her way to the stage. Seeing herself on the screen was upsetting enough but the looks of pity from the other children were excruciating.

_A bunch of hypocrites,_ She thought, _It's not like any of them are rushing to volunteer. Pity me now and then rush home to celebrate that it wasn't you this year? I bet by the same time next year none of you will remember my name._

It wasn't until she reached the stage that she dare glance up, only to look straight into the silver, gleeful eyes of Felix Crain.

"Up you come, love," he said, as he reached for her hand to help her up the steps. He smelled distinctly of rosemary and his skin glowed in the afternoon sun. Johanna blatantly ignored his outreached hand and got up the stage by herself. If Felix was in any way embarrassed by this gesture then he didn't show it, and happily guided her to the centre of the stage.

Behind him Johanna got a glimpse of the five District 7 Victors, sitting in order of their winning year, Adrian Harding, Leila Kessler, Sylven Burk, Blight Woodrow and Oren Burk. All looked either grimly disinterested or bored. None of them showed any interest in her except for Adrian who caught her eye and gave her a weak smile, nodding slightly. He was the youngest of the victors, winning the Games eight years ago. As a reminder two large scars disfigured his face, leaving him blind in one eye. Without the iris, it created a stark contrast against his dark skin.

Felix turned Johanna to face the crowed and held up her hand in triumph. His hand was cold and clammy. His high-pitched and dynamic voice transmitted from the speaker system.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I give you JOHANNA MASON! Your District 7 tribute for the 71st HUNGER GAMES!"

A faint clapping came from the Victors behind her, but despite Felix's enthusiasm the crowd remained silent. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared at Johanna, all divided between two emotions. Some relieved, others nervous; still waiting for a name to be drawn from the boys' bowl.

As Felix walked over to the bowl with boys' names Johanna became aware of movement among the crowd. In the distance she caught a glimpse of her father trying to get past several Peacekeepers. A man with a fiery temper, he would often act without thinking. In a desperate attempt to reach her he called out her name. Seemingly in slow motion, she watched him fight off several Peacekeepers in a frenzy of anger before two raised their batons and he disappeared from her sight, underneath the nervous shuffling of the crowd. It happened so fast that it caught her off-guard.

"Dad!" Johanna screamed, pushing her way in front of a surprised Felix, who was still poised over the bowl.

The shock of knowing her father was being beaten - even if she couldn't see him, only the flashing of the Peacekeepers' batons, again and again, with a sick kind of rhythm - with not a single person coming to his aid, made tears swell up in her eyes. Her mind raced a hundred miles a second. How could she help him? Could she help him? Before she was able to do anything someone grabbed her shoulder.

"Get away from me!" she cried out and whirled to face whoever it was, tears blurring her vision but she was ready to hurt whomever it was trying to stop her.

"You'll only make it worse," Adrian advised her calmly, clutching her arm. She found herself staring - _glaring - _at him.

He must have seen the commotion even before Johanna did. Half-blind and half the weight he used to be, Adrian was still an imposing man to have standing next to you. Helpless and confused, Johanna could do nothing but let the tears run down her cheeks, even as she swiped at them with the back of her hand. Adrian was right, Johanna was well aware of the consequences linked to disrupting the Capitol's pageants. If she ran to her father's aid now he would only suffer more, and she would be thrown back onto the stage. So she didn't move, not even when Adrian returned to his seat. As if nothing happened Felix continued with the Reaping, flashing an easy smile at the crowd and dipping his hand into the bowl. He called a name, but Johanna didn't hear it.

With blurred vision, Johanna watched a skinny thirteen-year-old boy named Faunus Morrell come up to the stage. There were no painful cries from for him. Or maybe she just didn't hear. They must have shook hands at some point but that too was lost in the blur of emotions. Not until she sat alone in the tiny waiting room, praying for her father to burst through the door, was she able to calm herself and regain control of her thoughts. _They wont hurt him. Not really hurt him. They need him don't they? For the interviews… Don't they?_

Thankfully Herod and Alexander walked in before she had time to doubt herself. Johanna jumped to her feet and Herod wrapped her in a hug, a show of affection so unusual that it left Johanna at a loss for words.

Alexander answered her unspoken question as he gently placed his large hand on her head. "Don't worry Jo, Helena is with him, he'll be okay."

Relieved, Johanna let herself relax - if only slightly. The worries of her father's safety had been so overpowering that she almost forgot her own situation. But an awkward silence followed. All three stood there, unable to speak, as if by refusing to acknowledge her Reaping it would somehow be less real. Both her brothers, young men in their twenties, were loggers like her father. These were proper working men who didn't show emotions. The best way they knew to deal with painful situations was to ignore them.

But that wasn't going to work this time.

Herod, the least stubborn of the three siblings, broke the silence. Still holding Johanna's shoulders he pulled her close again.

"Come back, Jo," he whispered. "Don't you dare even _think _of doing anything else."

Johanna felt the pain in his voice. His arms tightened around her, making her feel small and frightened, but safe.

"At this rate you'll suffocate me before I even have a chance to go, you dimwit," she joked weakly to stop herself from getting to emotional. She almost choked on her on words. _Maybe that'd'be better._

When he finally did let her go only pride stopped her from rushing back into his arms.

Alexander glanced at the door. "We don't have much time," he said. He was right, at any moment a peacekeeper could come in to take her away. He turned Johanna around to face him and looked her straight in the eyes. The look he gave her reminded her of when they were children, when he would let her play soldiers with them and the other boys.

"Jo, you know I'd trade places with you if I could, but I can't, so please listen," he said. Alexander had always been the more practical one, always the general in their war games. Calm and serious, he began to throw all the advice he had at her, speeding up as he went along, becoming more frantic with every word.

"Don't get into a fight unless you have to. Don't trust _anyone_. You've seen the Games. There are no friends in there."

Even though most of it sounded obvious it meant the world to Johanna. He, at least, believed in her.

"You've never let anyone get the better of you, so don't start now," he continued. "You're stronger than you look and a hell of a lot smarter than anyone else I know. You can do this Jo."

When the Peacekeepers barged in both brothers tensed up. They would protect her if she asked, Johanna realized. But she walked over to them without a fuss. What would be the point of getting them in trouble too? No matter how terrified she felt she wasn't going to let her brothers down. Before leaving she turned to them one more time.

"Tell Dad that I'll be home soon," Johanna said, forcing a smile.

* * *

The train raced silently through Panem's desolate landscape. Within ten minutes the fences of District 7 were mere specks on the horizon. They reminded Johanna of a game she used to play with her brothers and their friends. They would all gather behind Mister Finley's shed, from where they had a good view of the fence, and then dare each other to get close to it without being seen by the guards. If they got spotted they would all scatter and run back into town as fast as they could. _Guess I won, _she though as she watched the fences disappear.

She remembered that once Alexander got all the way to the fence and touched it, only to be knocked out cold by the shock. When it happened all the other children ran back to the town except for Haden and Johanna, who quickly went over to Alexander. Back then they thought themselves lucky that they were able to get Alexander away without being seen. Looking back now Johanna realized luck had little to do with it. _The bastards knew full well we were there_._ They just let it happen to teach a bunch of kids a lesson. Probably laughed as we tried to wake him._ _They're probably laughing now, seeing two kid head out to die for their entertainment. Well, we'll see who's laughing when I get back._

Johanna was sitting the lounge along with Faunus. She had taken a seat as far away from him as possible. The small boy sat curled up with his arms around his knees, occasionally whipping his nose on his sleeve. _He's not going to start crying is he? _She though nervously as she saw him glance at her.

"Your father okay?" he mumbled shyly.

Johanna shrugged. She'd rather not have to think about that anymore.

"Are you scared?" Faunus asked. His big brown eyes scanned her features for some kind of support.

_Don't do that_, she though. _We're not supposed to be friends_.

"You know, kid," she said, hesitantly, "its probable best if we don't get to know each other. Get my drift?"

Faunus nodded and buried his face into his arms and knees. "Sorry," he said softly.

Johanna rolled her eyes and sighed as she slay down on a sofa more comfortable then any bed she ever slept on. _Don't feel sorry for him Jo, nothing good can come from it._

"Good we're all here." She heard Felix proclaim happily as he walked into the cabin. Both tributes quickly sat up straight. This was what they had been waiting for, their mentors. Two Victors, Leila Kessler and Blight Woodrow followed Felix into the room. Johanna felt a pang of disappointment. For some reason she had assumed that Adrian would be her mentor, probably because he had helped her on stage. _Great, so it's either the Princess or the Sloth._

"Johanna, Faunus these are your mentors, Leila and Blight. I'm sure we will all get along wonderfully." Felix said, with a clipboard in hand on which he scribbled notes. Then he started rattling on about a schedule and responsibilities, at which point Johanna zoned out.

Where Adrian had looked at least like a survivor, with his battle scars, Leila and Blight seemed like the last people you would want to have standing next to you in a fight. Leila was a woman in her late twenties, she was dressed from top to bottom in the latest Capitol fashion. From her feathered eyelashes and powdered blue wig, to her bright blue pencil dress and laced pink gloves. Johanna tried to recall what she knew about her, which wasn't much. _She's the only female Victor we have left, that must be why she is always a mentor. But she has never, in the last 11 years or so, brought a Tribute home. Which makes her a lousy mentor. _A_t least Blight brought Adrian's back, which must counts for something I guess._

Blight was a man in his forties with large dark circles under his eyes, his blond hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. He walked as if his limbs weighed a ton and he seemed to always be chewing something.

Felix smiled at the two tributes, "You know, your both very lucky to have such experienced mentors this year. Anyway," Felix clapped his hands, "we have decided that we will keep the boys with the boys and the girls with the girls. It's always more fun that way."

_Figures. Just as I was getting used to the idea of Blight._

Blight let himself fall into a chair next to Faunus but Leila said a few muttered words to Felix and turned to leave the cabin again.

"Hey! Aren't we supposed to talk about stuff?" Johanna called out to her.

"Are we?" Leila asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what might this _stuff _be?"

"Um... I don't know, like tactics and stuff?" Johanna said confused.

Leila smiled a very fake, Capitol, smile. "Tactics? Well, have you ever seen a Hunger Games?"

"Of course," Johanna said, rolling her eyes, _Well, if we're going to be sarcastic._ "Us common folk back in the districts do get treated to the occasional glimpse of it. Once in a while."

"In that case you've already seen all the tactics you need to know. And I really can't think of any other _stuff_ we would need to talk about." And with that Leila left the cabin, leaving Johanna slightly stunned.

"Is she always like that?" Johanna asked, looking at Felix and Blight.

"Don't worry too much darling," Felix said taking a seat next to her. "I'm sure she's just tired. You'll have plenty of time to get to know her over dinner."

But dinner wasn't much better. Leila spend all evening sharing the latest gossip with Felix at the other end of the table. As the two sat together it was almost impossible to tell which one looked more Capitol then the other. Not once did Leila even look into Johanna's direction unless it was for a passing of bread.

That night, as the train raced through Panem, Johanna lay still on the largest bed she'd ever seen, staring out the window. Through it, the passing scenery created dancing shadows on the ceiling. She felt uneasy. Since she stepped on the train she had experienced more luxury than ever before in her life. Part of her suspected it to be a ruse to distract them from what they were heading towards; certain death.

She heard voices coming from the compartment next door, too muffled to hear what was being said but loud enough to keep her from her thoughts. It sounded like Faunus and Blight, probably discussing tactics. Something she and Leila should have been doing. At first Leila's absence hadn't bother Johanna too much, what on earth could a preppy princess like Leila teacher her anyway. But lying in that gigantic bed, hearing the voices of Faunus and Blight made her think. Maybe she was missing out? Were there Games secrets that she wasn't being told? And Leila did win the Games once, so she must know something. Why didn't she like her? Had she already given up on her? Never-ending questions raced through her head, preventing her from falling asleep.

In the early hours of the morning Johanna gave up all together and left her cabin for a walk. As she approached the lounge a flickering of light drew her closer. Inside she found Leila curled up on the floral-patterned sofa watching television. In her hand she held a drink, blue nails curled tightly around the glass. At first Johanna didn't even recognize her without all the Capitol attire. With her long red hair loose and wearing simple black trousers and a shirt Leila looked like any normal person. Better fed than most people Johanna knew, but without a doubt more District then Capitol. Maybe, Johanna though, she had judged her a bit too much on first impressions.

Johanna entered the lounge. On the television they showed reruns of the reaping with two capital hosts commenting on the looks and chances of each tribute. Johanna couldn't quite tell if Leila was watching it or just gazing into the distance, lost in thought. Not sure what to do Johanna was about to leave again when Leila looked up.

"Oh, it's you." Leila said without much enthusiasm. She stretched out like a cat and took as sip from her drink. "Not much of a sleeper, are we?" she asked. There was a certain tone of disdain in her voice.

Johanna shook her head and sat down in one of the leather chairs, hoping she and her mentor might actually get to talk.

"Why are you watching that?" she asked nodding at the screen. Having to go through it once had been torturous enough. Johanna couldn't imagine wanting to see it again.

Leila looked back at the television as if she just realized it was still on.

"There is only one channel, and I don't like silence. A lesser of two evils I guess," she said and finished the last bit of liquor left in her glass. "You should watch it through and see the competition. I, however, will try and go to sleep." And with that she got up.

Johanna couldn't help but suspect that Leila was trying to avoid her again. With images of the District 9 tributes flashing before her eyes she gathered up the courage to ask the question dominating her mind.

"How do I win?" she blurted out just before Leila left the room.

Leila turned around. "It very simple darling," she said with a smile. "Don't. Die."

Johanna couldn't help but snort with frustration at the obvious answer. "But _how?_" she asked, desperate to get some real information. She didn't want Leila to leave. She wanted answers, some real help. Wasn't that what a mentor was for? To give guidance and help you survive?

Leila sighed sharply and came back to sit on the sofa's armrest. She faced Johanna, eyes scrutinizing, though never making eye-contact.

"You want some genuine advise? Do yourself a favor, when you're on that platform and they start the countdown," -for the first time Leila looked Johanna in the eyes- "step off it." She said this with absolute seriousness, a dead look on her face.

Shocked, Johanna refused to believe what she just heard. "Are you nuts? You _want_ me to die?" she demanded in flash of anger.

But Leila just shrugged her shoulders and got back up. "Everyone dies, darling," she said calmly. "However, you get the choice. Quickly or slowly? Your pick."

Johanna wasn't having any of it, furious that her own mentor would suggest suicide. "I'm going to win!" she announced stubbornly, as though that made a difference.

_"Are_ you now?" Leila said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

The mocking tone in which she did aggravated Johanna even further. "I might not look it, lady, but I can defend myself. I'm not a lost cause, however much you may think I am. I can win!"

There was a trembling in her voice, a tingling in her eyes and she felt her heart pounding in her throat. She was angry and upset but Leila showed no sympathy for her tribute.

"It's not about defending yourself, girl. It's about wanting to go home and wanting it more than the kid standing in front of you."

"I can do it!" Johanna almost yelled.

"Really? Are you sure about that?" Leila seemed to have lost her patience. The glass was gone from her hand now, discarded on the floor. "What if it's just you and Faunus at the end? Can you do that? Or some twelve-year-old, crying for her mother? Can you do that, girl? Because if you can't, then you're just wasting my time."

Leila turned and walked out of the room, leaving Johanna speechless with anger. Angry that Leila didn't believe her. Angry that she had given up on her before even giving her a chance, but most of all angry because with just a few words Leila had managed to bring her close to tears and it made her feel weak. For a long time, Johanna sat frozen on the couch, trying to come up with something to call out that would make her mentor that she wasn't going to die.

Nothing came to her.

Johanna let herself fall deeper into the chair. On the screen the District 8 tributes for this year's Games waved at the crowd. Both must have been close to eighteen and the commentators seemed quite positive about their odds.

"Of course the older ones always stand a better chance," one of the invisible men proclaimed.

"How very true, Plautus," the other added, voice syrupy-sweet, "but then we mustn't underestimate the little ones. I refer, of course, to District 4's Finnick Odair, who was a mere fourteen when he won his Games."

"Correct, correct, there is always a tiny chance for an deviant," Plautus replied, "and those usually make for the most rewarding Games to watch. Don't you think so?"

"Everyone loves an underdog," his colleague replied cheerfully, "and, of course, the odds that go with it."

Both men chuckled and the scenery changed to that from District 7. There Johanna saw herself on stage. Tears rolling down her cheeks. They had cut out the part of her father being beaten, so now it looked like she was crying because she had been Reaped. She looked small and helpless, and the commentators agreed.

"We see them every year don't we? The one who has already given up." Plautus observed, clucking his tongue disapprovingly.

"I'm afraid you're right," his colleague agreed, "and would you just _look_ at the fragile state she is in. Someone please give the girl a biscuit! I don't think we will see much of her after the first day."

All this should have discouraged Johanna even more. Instead her mind came to life. If all the other tributes had been watching this then every single one now underestimated her. She might not be the strongest tribute but growing up in a house full of men had made her tougher then she looked. She had the element of surprise on her side. And with or without Leila's help she was determined to win.

_I'll get back home, no matter what it takes._


	2. Chapter 2: I'll Be Home Soon (Part 2)

**Chapter 1: **

**I'll Be Home Soon. (Part 2) **

* * *

It surprised Johanna how easily she could fool people. Everyone was so ready to believe she was a feeble child who had already given up. It helped that her prep team managed the impossible. After they curled her hair and plastered her face with layers of make-up she looked like a porcelain doll, ready to break by the slightest of touch.

Her act didn't stop with her looks though. She refused to socialize during the training, pretending to be shy, and would look nervously at anything resembling a weapon. While she spend her time fiddling around in the less dangerous training stations, she did kept a keen eye on the other tributes. This way she hoped to find out who relied on their strength and who on their cunning.

Half the time, Johanna feared she was putting on her act a bit too much. But with every passing day people paid her less and less attention. She managed to get an unsurprising score of one during her privet training session and on the rare occasions they mentioned her on television they referred to her as "the District Seven tribute" or "the girl from seven." By the end not even the other tributes remembered her name.

Nonetheless, the hardest part was always going be the interview. That would be the point where people really got to know her and the last chance Johanna had to make a lasting impression. If she came across in any way confident, or deceitful, then some might see her for what she really was, an unpredictable threat. But she surprised herself and cried her eyes out all the way through. So much so that even the famous Caesar Flickerman couldn't get two coherent words out of her.

Since their conversation on the train, Leila and Johanna had seen little of each other. This was not surprising but odd since they all shared the same apartment on the seventh floor of the training centre. But Leila seemed to spend more time socializing then mentoring. Leaving early, prepped up in the latest Capital fashion, and coming home late. That is, if she came home at all. Any help or information Johanna received she got from either Felix or Blight. It wasn't until the very last night before the Games that the two spoke again.

Like every night since the reaping, Johanna had problems getting to sleep. So she sat curled up in an armchair, gazing out of the gigantic windows. The view mesmerized her. The Capital's never-ending lights dotted about like the night sky back in the district. As she sat there, dreaming of home, the elevator doors opened and Leila walked into the apartment. She was having trouble balancing herself on her high-heeled shoes. She'd clearly been drinking.

Stumbling to the nearest sofa she threw off her wig, and once seated, took off the offending shoes. Only then did she notice Johanna sitting opposite of her.

"No much of a sleeper, are you?" Leila said.

Johanna remained quiet. She had developed a hatred for this woman. The way she pretended to be Capital, her total disregard for her district or her tributes. No wonder they all died.

Leila, unable to keep her eyes open, lay down on the sofa, taking deep breaths, probably to fight the effects of the alcohol.

"Still planning to win?" she asked.

After having ignored each other for the last few days it seemed strange for Leila to suddenly start a discussion. But then again, she was drunk and gave the impression to be asking less out of interest and more for the sake of conversation. _'I don't like the silence,'_ Johanna remembered her saying.

"Maybe," Johanna said, with a certain amount of spite. "Any last minute advice? Seeing you're my mentor."

Leila sighed. "I've already told you what to do. But it seems you've made up your mind. So why listen to me?"

"You could at least pretend to help! It is your job after all!" Johanna said.

"Darling, there isn't a half sane person in the capital who will sponsor you now. I couldn't even help you if I wanted to." Leila's voice trailed off at the end as she fell asleep. Johanna couldn't help but be jealous at the ease. She would be awake all night, her body riddled with fear and nerves.

* * *

Stepping on the platform wasn't difficult, staying there took all the willpower Johanna possessed. Her heart pounded and she felt ill. At any second her legs could give way. Frightened she looked at the only other person there, her stylist Clodia, who just waved at her.

"Good luck!" she yelled, with the same excitement you might show a child on their first school day. That was the last thing Johanna saw or heard before entering the arena.

She emerged on what looked like an island in the middle of a frozen lake. In front of her stood the Cornucopia with all its wealth. Behind her, the lake was surrounded by woodland. Johanna's first plan had been simple, run, hide and let the rest kill each other in the bloodbath. But the sight of ice worried her. She considered herself a fast runner but not on ice. How long before someone would see her run away? She'd already lost her first chance to escape without being seen. And was the ice safe? Or would it break if she ran for the woods?

All these questions rushed through her head as she watched the numbers slowly count down. Around her the other tributes were also taking in the surroundings, sizing each other up and eyeing the Cornucopias treasures. None of them gave her a second glance. So far her plan had worked, she was not considered a priority.

On each side of her stood a boy, Jalesh, from district four, and Markus, from district nine. Jalesh was considered as one of the most promising tributes, so naturally it worried Johanna to have him standing so close. Even though his attention seemed to be fully on the Cornucopia, there was no guarantee he wouldn't go for her as soon as the alarm sounded. If he did, she wouldn't stand a chance.

Then the unexpected happened. Just before the numbers reached single digest the boy from ten stepped of his platform. The explosion, along with the gruesome sight that followed, filled the air with dust and the smell of blood. The horror of it shocked his neighbour so much that she lost her balance. Another explosion. More dust, more blood. Two tributes dead even before the game had started.

Distracted by the explosions, half the tributes were still in shock, when a second later, the alarm went off. That minute moment of confusion and indecisiveness would turn out to be deadly for some. There was a rush towards the Cornucopia and the nearest weapon anyone could find. A cloud of dust still hung in the air, making it impossible to see the person next to you.

Johanna didn't need to think, she just ran. She got a glimpse of Markus being thrown to the ground by a girl. Behind her she heard agonising screams but all she focused on was getting across the ice. It might have been risky but there were no other options. The Cornucopia was certain death, whilst the ice was a possibility. She ran as fast as she could, leaving the yells and screams behind her. She pushed the death she'd seen out of her mind and focus on getting to the other side. She didn't dare look back because the image of Jalesh chasing her gave her the strength to keep going.

Half way across she slipped and fell, colliding with the ice arms and head first. It felt as if her skin got scraped off. As she got up, a blood smear remained. She had no time to inspect the damage and kept running. A strain of blood dripped down one side of her face. Johanna couldn't care, she was grateful the ice was holding.

Only once she reached the woods did she have the courage to stop and look back. Victory cries came from the Cornucopia, the Career Tributes seemed to have conquered it. In the distance other people were reaching the end of the lake, but none seemed to have followed her. This was but a temporary relieve. The Careers would soon start their hunt and Johanna noticed the trail of blood she had left behind on the ice.

There was no time to dress her wounds. Her only chance of surviving the next few hours, was to put as much distance between herself and the Cornucopia as possible. So she ran, grabbing any large leaves she came across to help stop the bleeding. Things weren't looking great but she had one advantage at least. She was from district seven; the woods had always been her playground.

When Johanna couldn't run any more she walked and eventually even that became difficult. The cold air scratched her lungs with every breath she took. Her arm and head throbbed. She had to rest. Passing a hillside covered in pine trees she figured it would have to do. She needed a hiding place that would keep her warm and pine needles made good insulation. Climbing up the hillside she found a tree large enough to hide her from anyone passing by.

At nightfall ten faces appeared in the sky. That meant there were thirteen tributes left to deal with. As Johanna was lying in a mountain of pine needles, she went through the remaining tributes in her head. This was followed by another night of little sleep.

The idea was to let the other tributes fight amongst each other before drawing the gamemakers attention. No one was interested in her, so even if the game got boring, they would focus their nasty tricks on one of the more popular tributes. So Johanna kept playing her part as the helpless little girl. It felt strange putting up an act when there wasn't anyone around but this was the hunger games, you never knew who was watching.

Johanna's main problem was hunger and thirst. The hunger part she managed to solve the first night. Her pine bed crawled with potential food sources. Little bugs and worms wiggled around in the decomposing earth. Eating them in the dark of night had two advantages. No one would see her eat it and she couldn't see what it was. It was disgusting but it kept her from starving. Water, on the other hand, became difficult. Johanna had not passed a single water source other then the frozen lake. Going back there would be too dangerous. So her only option remaining was to steal it. The following days Johanna spent finding and stalking smaller groups. Carefully keeping out of sight. Whenever she saw a safe opportunity to steal water, she did, and then quickly disappear in search of another target.

Four faces appeared the second evening and only one on the third, that of Faunus. This had an unexpected effect on her, she felt devastated. No mater how hard she had tried to ignore Faunus, he remained a boy from her district and his death hurt her. She did not have to fake her tears that night but at least the burden of having to kill him herself was gone. There were eight more tributes left. It still felt like a long way to go.

It was on the fourth day that it all went wrong. Johanna had been stalking the boy and girl from eleven. They had passed her hiding place the night before and she couldn't help but notice both of them were carrying backpacks. The couple made a good team, never staying in one place for very long and taking turns resting. She followed them all night and the following morning, waiting for the opportunity to grab one of the bags, but they were too cautious. Eventually, they ventured too close to the lake and Johanna saw no choice but to turn back.

Frustrated with her failure, she carefully retraced her steps. Her mind wandered through the events, analysing the couple's behaviour for future reference. It was because of this that she missed the rustling of leaves behind her and before she realized it a girl managed to jump her. Dazra, from district five, seventeen, blond hair and pale blue eyes, stood before her with a crazed look. For the first time Johanna was faced with someone who really wanted to kill her.

Dazra waved a small knife around and a tiny smile appeared on her face.

"I've been watching you," she said, so softly it was almost a whisper, followed by snickering. "Watching you watching them. Isn't that funny," again Dazra laughed.

Noticing the blood spatter on Dazra's clothing and knife, Johanna had to assume that she had killed before. Counting on hesitation was out of the question. Desperately she tried to think of a way out of the situation. She had nothing to bargain with and no weapon of her own. The only thing she could think of was try and overpower the girl, get her off guard and take the knife.

Johanna made her lip tremble, started taking in quick deep breaths and slowly backed away.

"Oh, don't cry little girl. It's all just a game after al," Dazra teased. With a wide smile she firmly griped her knife and rushed to attack. Johanna was ready for her.

Dazra was only a step away when a spear hit her straight in the neck. She tumbled to the ground, taking Johanna with her. Within a mere second Johanna saw Dazra's life slip away.

From where the spear came from a familiar boy walked towards her. His curly black hair pulled back into a ponytail, tall, tanned and with a sword in one of his hands.

"Jalesh?" Johanna said.

Confused and shaken she sat up. From the start Jalesh had been friendly with the other Careers, she had assumed he would be with them. But there was no sign of anyone else around. Were the other Careers dead? Did he kill them all? But then why would he save her? That last question was quickly answered.

"Don't thank me girl. I didn't protect you," Jalesh said, as he came closer "You were simply a distraction to defeat a tougher opponent," he smiled the smile she had only just seen before, the smile of someone ready to kill. His hand tightened on the sword.

"Nothing personal of course, I just want to get this over with," he said, ready to attack.

"Please don't," Johanna begged, in a meek voice, knowing full well that it wouldn't stop him.

She quickly crawled backwards, closer to Dazra's body. There, her hand touched what she was looking for, the knife. Jalesh towered above her raising his sword. As he brought it down she jumped out of the way. With all her strength she kicked the back of his legs. That, in combination with the weight of the sword, caused him to lose balance. Without another thought Johanna trusted the knife into the back of his neck.

There was a gasp, blood and then the sound of canons.

* * *

Finnick let out a scream of frustration as his fist crashed onto the viewing screen in front of him. Large cracks danced across it, fracturing the image of the two bodies being lifted into the air.

"That'll teach it," a voice mocked him from behind.

Finnick glanced around at Leila sitting at her viewing station. The Victors lounge had twenty-four of these stations and only a few were occupied at that moment. Back on his own unit he saw Jalesh's picture flicker and disappear before the entire screen went black. Like a final verdict this hurt him as much as seeing the boy die.

His distress must have shown because Leila seemed to sympathize slightly with him. "You get too emotionally attached to your tributes Finnick. It won't do you much good," she sighed.

Usually Finnick had a dozen replies ready for her, as this was an old argument between the two of them. She believed that helping you tribute to a quick death was doing them a favour, whilst he desperately wanted to save them. It was one of the very few things they disagreed on. But today his wounds were too fresh and his mind too tired, so he let her comments slide. Confused he looked at the large screens in the centre of the room. There, the girl, who had just killed his promising tribute so easily, ran threw the woods.

"Did you know she could do that?" he asked, pointing at Johanna.

Leila shrugged, "I make it a policy not to know too much. That way you're never surprised."

"Or disappointed?" Finnick said, as he got up. There was no point is staying, his tribute was dead and the other had died in the bloodbath. It had not been a good year for district four. "I'm tired, I'm going up."

Leila nodded with her eyes fixed on the screen. She too looked tired. Finnick couldn't remember a single moment not seeing her in the lounge. Most Victors were constantly in and out, juggling the need to persuade sponsors and the responsibility of monitoring their tribute. But Leila didn't do sponsors unless they came to her. As far as Finnick knew, Leila had been in the lounge since the beginning of the games.

"You want me to send Blight down for you? I don't think he will mind keeping an eye on your tribute," he asked.

Leila shook her head, "He's too drunk by now."

Finnick couldn't help but smile, "You know, for someone who doesn't care about their tribute, you spend a lot of your time in here?"

"Don't mistake one thing for the other Finnick," Leila said, her gaze fixed on Johanna running on the large screen. "It's not that I care what happens to her. It's just that no one should die alone. And reruns don't count."


	3. Chapter 3: I'll Be Home Soon (Part 3)

**Chapter 1: **

**I'll Be Home Soon. (Part 3) **

* * *

Standing over the lifeless bodies of Jalesh and Dazra, Johanna's hands trembled. She had killed and it had been too easy. It shouldn't have been easy. There had been no final words, no screams of pain, no pangs of guilt as she struck down the final blow. Just quick and sudden death, one moment they were there and the next they were gone. But worst of all, she felt nothing. No sorrow, no guilt, no joy or sense of victory. At least, she though, she should feel something.

Johanna's eyes were fixated on Jalesh. His large muscular body looked like it could jump up again at any moment was it not for the trickle of blood running down his neck. His eyes were wide open as if he was in an eternal state of shock. She wanted to crouch down next to him and close them, at least give him some dignity in death, but her body wouldn't move. Her hands still trembled, clutching the small knife, but the rest of her stood frozen.

It was the loud echoing sound of the cannons that trusted her thoughts back to reality and she was abruptly aware of her close proximity to the Cornucopia. She had no idea if the other Careers were still alive or where they were, but soon the hovercrafts would come to collect the bodies, and if they were around then that would give them a pretty good idea of were she was.

This is when panic struck her, disorienting her. The bodies at her feet suddenly made her ill and the desire to run became too great. She dropped the knife and without thinking she ran into an unknown direction, away from the bodies, away from the cornucopia, away from the known dangers.

Twigs and branches scratched her face as she ran through the dense forest. Every time she paused to catch her breath sounds seemed to surround her. The wind? Birds? Tributes? As she spun around constantly, triggered by the lightest noise, anticipating a new attack, she got more and more disorientated. Any seconded now someone could jump from behind a tree or a bush. Just like the other two had. The density of the forest, which once had made her feel safe and hidden, suddenly made her feel vulnerable. The trees that had been her protection now were her enemy, hiding unknown dangers.

She ran until her lungs hurt and her legs ached from exhaustion. Only then, when she was fully satisfied with the distance between herself and the bodies, did the panic slightly subside. Aware that she was lost Johanna stumbled into a clearing, hoping it might give her an indication on where she was, but nothing looked familiar.

At least she was out of the forest and her surroundings were quiet, giving her the reassurance that no one had followed her. Walking into the open space was like lifting a heavy burden off her shoulders. She gave herself a moment to regain her thoughts as she soaked in some sunlight.

She might have temporally escaped the other tributes but it worried her that now the world knew was capable of killing. It was much sooner than she had hoped. She cursed herself for her own recklessness. The game makers would have their eyes on her now. Not only that, but the betting people of the Capital would become interested as well. Especially since there were only seven or less tributes left. Her life or death now mattered to more than just her and her family. The arena was now as dangerous as the tributes. Game makers loved to give the punters a run for their money.

This though had only just entered her mind when an unsettling feeling made Johanna look at the ground. She was sure it just moved. Not like an earthquake, but it definitely felt unstable. She stood perfectly still, examining the earth surrounding her feet, then to her horror she saw it liquefying and slowly it started sucking her in.

Her first reaction was to jump, but the ground she landed on was so soft she sank in even further. Quickly she tried to run back towards the forest but with every step she sank deeper, until she was unable to move her legs. Franticly she tried to reach solid ground, but in vain, within ten minutes the sand had sucked her down to her hips. There was nothing she could do, the slightest of movement made her sink faster.

The clearing was free from any trees or rocks she could hold on to and the forest was only just beyond her reach. For the second time that day Johanna was struck by panic. However, this time she couldn't run away from it. If anyone came across her now she would be an easy mark, and if they didn't she would drown in the liquefying sand. Only a miracle could save her and unfortunately Johanna had long ago given up on miracles.

* * *

Finnick wrapped a towel around his waist and let himself fall on the large bed in his quarters. He could see steam float out of the bathroom, slightly fogging the nearby mirror. His wet hair soaked the sheets but he didn't care. What were the chances he was going to spend the night here anyway?

He wanted to sleep, curl up into the sheets and not wake up for several days. For those unconscious moments he could then forget Jalesh and how he failed to save him. His tribute, Annie, had won last year, granted by a fluke, but it had made him forget how much it hurt, losing your tribute. You'd think you would get used to it, but so far he hadn't.

Before he allowed himself to be swallowed by sorrow a female Avox entered the room carrying a brand new suit. Without making a sound, she walked across the room to place it on the table, al the while avoiding looking towards the bed.

As Finnick lay there, he couldn't help but stare, amazed at how silent they always were. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground. With her black hair tied up in a bun and the standard white Avox uniform she seemed, for that moment, the most natural thing in the entire Capital. In a city full of decadence the simplicity of the girl made her beautiful. Even though she was a mute slave, forced to serve, just another accessory to a Capital household.

When he first came to the city he used to try and communicate with them but that only seemed to upset them. He assumed it probable got them in trouble. So now he only looked at them as they passed by, his way of acknowledging their existence. In truth, he loved seeing them. They were like ghosts hovering around in a city full of puppets.

He wondered what she might have done to deserve such a cruel fate. Was she a Capital citizen who had dabbled into illegal trade? Or had she tallied up a debt so large she had no other option then to sell herself? Or maybe she once lived in one of the districts and had merely stolen some food to survive, or had upset a peacekeeper by ignoring his advances.

The possibilities were countless, but what ever it might have been, Finnick doubted she deserved the fate of an Avox. To have ones tongue removed and spend the rest of her live in servitude, to be treated like a shadow, no one deserved that.

She was a reminder of why, in a few minutes, he was going to dress into that suit she just brought. Then go and meet a woman named Servilia Sanders, who must have paid a lot of money to get him on his first free night. He would then seduce and charm this woman. Who will convince herself, that no mater the large sum of money she parted with, that he truly loves her. That she was different from all the others, and that when she takes him to her room he came willingly because they had something special.

He was going to do this because, if he didn't, someone he cared for would end up like the Avox girl now leaving his room. With that though he pushed himself to get up from the comforts of his bed.

The suit on the table was black with a few blue highlights, surprisingly plain. But as he walked towards it the light caught it from a different direction and he saw it was covered in a hue of sparkling blue dust. Sparkles were the new thing apparently.

Next to the suit was a tray he received an hour ago. On it laid an envelope and a dish with two red pills. Finnick had opened the envelope as soon as he received it. He knew what it contained, the standard letter informing him to whom he was promised for the night, so he had only scanned for the name.

The pills were Euphoria, an illegal party drug that did precisely what its name promised. It was popular among the Capital citizens, but extremely dangerous if used inappropriately. They were expensive and hard to get, so the black market was littered with badly produced imitations. But not these ones, these came from the government's own pharmaceutical laboratories.

Finnick looked at them in disgust, they always gave him some, but he tried never to use them. He had seen the nasty side effects. Some of the other Victors took them regularly. But everyone knew that as soon as the Capital had lost its interest in you the supplies would quickly run out and the only other alternative available in the districts was Morphling.

Finnick grabbed the suit and quickly got dressed. He and Servilia Sanders were going to a so-called in-game party thrown by one of the senators. Most of the Capitals élite would be there. Finnick suspected that Servilia was trying to score some kind of points by showing up with one of the most sought after Victors on her arm. But with whom he had no idea. He turned on the television, just in case he had missed something important. There was always the slight unrealistic hope that it would al be over.

On the screen he was Johanna slowly sinking into the sand trap. For a moment he looked at the struggling girl. How she had fooled him, everyone for that matter.

"Good try," he whispered under his breath.

It looked like Leila might be joining the party later on as well. He was about to leave the room when he glanced back at the pills again. For a moment he hesitated before grabbing them and shoving them in his pocket. You never knew with new clients, they might bring some of their own. In that case he rather take the real thing then risk a black market knockoff.

* * *

Hours had passed and breathing became harder. As the sand reached her chest Johanna felt her insides slowly being crushed. Her thoughts wandered in depressing directions, this is where she was going to die. Not by the hands of another tribute, but by her own stupidity. Johanna wanted to let out a scream of anger. The only things stopping her were sheer exhaustion and the sand crushing her lungs. Desperate for anything Johanna looked up at the sky and did the last thing that came to mind, the one thing she thought she would never do.

"Please… Leila!" Her voice was shaking, and so soft it was almost a whisper. But she knew the cameras would catch it. They wouldn't miss a tributes dying plead. "Help me! … Please!"

Begging, her last resort. With her eyes close to tears she scanned the skies, but no silver parachute came to her rescue. Her cry for help went unheard. Not that she had expected otherwise.

She was just about to given up on her last bit of hope when Johanna noticed there was movement amongst the trees. Conflicted she wondered if she should call out or stay quiet. It could be the Careers she thought. But even so, at this point would that be a bad thing? A quick death would defiantly be preferable to slowly suffocating.

Before she had the chance to make up her mind Marcus, from district nine, walked out from behind some bushes. It was clearly by accident because coming across Johanna being swallowed up by the ground made him jump right back behind a tree. Marcus was tall and tanned with red hair, a face full of freckles and eyes as green as the forest itself. On his belt he carried a small axe and he had another one in his hand as he glanced at her from behind the tree.

The sight of the axes gave Johanna the most ridicules sensation of homesickness that she couldn't help but laugh. Here she was about to die and an axe made her want to go home. She wondered if he was going to use it to kill her. How appropriate, she thought.

Carefully Marcus entered the clearing, scanning his surrounding to make sure that it was safe.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She had to bite her lip not to say something sarcastic. Surly he could see she was not okay.

"Not really," She said, not knowing whether to cry or laugh.

"Here, grab on to this," he said holding out one of the axes. "Can you reach it?"

The act of kindness bewildered Johanna but she wasn't going to let him change his mind, quickly grabbing hold of the handle. With surprisingly little effort he pulled her out. Feeling the pressure lift of her body Johanna couldn't help but gasp for air. Never in her life did the touch of solid ground make her feel so grateful. For a moment she just lay there on the ground, not caring what Marcus's intentions where. Looking up at him into his worried eyes a thought crept up in the back of her mind 'Why is a fool like you still alive?'

"You could have left me, or killed me?" she asked stunned and wide eyed, still catching her breath.

He simply shrugged his shoulders, "Didn't seem right, it being you and all."

Johanna was almost shocked. He meant because she was so weak and hopeless. She couldn't even imagine how he rationalized the blood spatters on her face.

"And now?" she asked glaring at the axes. She was so weak and exhausted that if he did change his mind there would be little she could do.

Another shrug from his shoulders, "If you want you can stay with me for a bit," he said.

She could see he meant it, he was an even bigger fool then she thought. He was going to trust a girl he didn't know in a game where everyone was out to kill you. However she figured that if he wanted to kill her he would have left he in the sandpit. And she could use the protection, if only for a while. So she and held out her hand so he could help her up.

"You wouldn't happen to have any water, would you?" she asked with a weak smile.

* * *

**A/N: Just want to say thank you to all the wonderful people that gave me such helpful reviews so far and anyone following my story. You are all much loved ^_^ **


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